


The Enemy Within (Part One)

by Reis_Asher



Series: Ownership [11]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: D/s, Dom/sub, Edging, Hannor, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Peaceful Route, Post-Game, Sub Connor, android murder, hank/connor, hankcon - Freeform, police work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 14:26:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15414972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Released from hospital, Hank and Connor get back into their sexual relationship, but Connor is afraid of Hank overexerting himself. He realizes he's going to have to trust Hank to know his limits if their relationship is to continue. Hank is eager to return to work, but Connor knows he won't keep his promise to stay on desk duty for long.When John's body shows up on the doorstep of the Jericho offices alongside anti-android slogans, Hank and Connor find themselves with a new case on their hands. Markus arrives at the scene and starts to question if taking the peaceful route was a good choice if humans continue to insist on violence against deviants.





	The Enemy Within (Part One)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of a three part arc within Ownership. Enjoy!

It was a beautiful spring day and Connor felt a little more at ease as he pulled up on the driveway with Hank in the passenger seat. After a week in the hospital, Hank had finally been discharged, and Connor was hoping they'd be able to go back to some semblance of a normal life, though he expected it would be a life with limits from now on. He'd never be able to forget that feeling of helplessness he'd felt as Hank lay dying in his arms, knowing that someday he was going to have to do it all over again and he'd lose the fragile human who'd become the center of his world.

He stepped out of the vehicle and walked around to Hank’s side, where he opened the door and offered Hank his hand to assist.

“I’m perfectly fucking capable of getting out of my own car,” Hank groused. “I’m not made of glass, Connor.” Connor retracted his hand and let the Lieutenant climb out of his own accord. They walked up the front path together, Connor content to hold onto Hank's hand and feel the beat of his heart with his scanners. Connor unlocked the front door and they were greeted by an enthusiastic Sumo, who proceeded to jump up and lick Hank’s face like he’d been afraid his master was never coming home again.

Connor knew the feeling. Hank had only had a mild heart attack, but Connor monitored him constantly, terrified that Hank would have another episode at any moment. Hank had a bag full of pills to take on a daily basis, various orange bottles that Connor had scanned, arranged, and researched for every potential side effect so he could recognize them if they occurred.

Connor let Sumo out to do his business in the yard while Hank sat down in the living room. Sumo came padding back in and Connor shut the door to find Hank had wandered off. Connor located him in the bedroom, reaching for the switch on the bedside table, where he'd left it the night of his heart attack.

“Kneel,” Hank commanded.

“Hank, I don’t think—"

“Kneel.” Hank pressed the button and a jolt of pleasure coursed through Connor. He was completely unprepared for it and it shook him to his central core. He dropped to his knees at once. “Lieutenant...”

“I need this, Connor. I need to possess you, not have you fuss over me like I’m geriatric. I lost enough of my fuckin’ dignity in that hospital and I need it back.”

Dignity. A very human concept that Connor still struggled to grasp, but he was trying. He was starting to understand it a little more as time went by. Hank was a proud man, one who kept his accomplishments and failures close to his chest. The fact that his life had fallen apart was a source of great shame for him, and that’s why he’d kept his grief hidden and struggled alone with his depression for so long. Being treated like a child, powerless and unable to make decisions for himself didn’t just offend him, it _scared_ him.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said. He had to trust that Hank knew his limits, or this relationship could never last.

It was frightening to let go and put the most treasured thing in Connor's world—Hank’s life itself—in Hank’s hands, but Connor knew he had to accept that Hank wasn’t trying to destroy himself any more. He’d stated that he wanted to live, and so Connor bowed his head and decided to place his faith and his happiness at Hank’s feet.

“That’s better.” Hank smiled for the first time since he’d stepped in the front door. He ripped the hospital wristband off and tossed it on the bedside table. He pressed the button again and Connor moaned, his erection reaching full hardness. “Trust me, Connor. If I feel even slightly ill, we'll stop.” Hank knelt down and unbuttoned Connor’s shirt, kissing the skin over his collarbone as it was revealed to the air. Connor relaxed. He felt the tension leave his circuits, his thirium pressure dropping slightly as he accepted that Hank knew what he was doing and surrendered to the pleasure. “Connor, you’re so beautiful. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I was with you the entire time,” Connor stated.

“You know what I mean. Like this. Down on your knees and hard for me.” Hank unzipped Connor’s jeans and Connor gasped as Hank gripped his cock, rough hands fondling his erection. It seemed like Hank might jerk Connor off to climax, but then he stopped abruptly and stood up, leaving Connor exposed and vulnerable. Connor held his hands behind his back, knowing better than to think his erection was his to please. His cock belonged to Hank, every wonderful feeling Hank’s to draw out of him when and how he desired.

“Get on the bed.” Connor complied at once and lay down. Hank pulled Connor's jeans off and worked on his shirt and jacket, leaving him naked and at Hank’s mercy. Hank sat on the side of the bed and teased Connor’s cock with his hands, massaging him into a writhing mess.

“Did you touch yourself when I was in the hospital, Connor? Did you pleasure yourself in my absence?”

“No. I only left your side to attend to Sumo," Connor explained.

Hank raised his eyebrows. “You never thought about sneaking off for a little private time?”

“Not without you. I belong to you, Lieutenant.”

Hank's breath caught in his throat. “You’re such a good boy. I was looking forward to punishing you, too.” Hank smiled, wicked lights dancing in his eyes. “Do you want to come, Connor?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I do. Very much so.” Hank sped up his strokes and Connor savored the feeling of Hank's hand wrapped around him after being bereft for so long. Connor cried out as he came, coating Hank’s hand in his semen. Hank grinned and placed his dripping hand above Connor’s mouth. “Clean up your mess.”

Connor licked his essence off Hank’s hand, caressing the cracks between his fingers with his tongue as he did so.

“I’m so fuckin’ hard right now,” Hank admitted. He wriggled out of his pants and boxers, kicking them onto the floor. He gave himself a couple of strokes, testing the waters. “Play with me. I want to feel what you can do with your hands.”

Connor sat up and grasped Hank’s thick cock, enjoying the soft texture of his skin as it slid over his hard shaft. He reached down and fondled Hank’s scrotum, and was rewarded with a gentle gasp.

“Your hand feels good, fuck...” Hank gripped the bedsheets, balling them up in his hands as Connor worked him. “Retract your skin. I wanna know what it feels like.”

Connor obeyed, though he was surprised. He hadn’t expected Hank to ever want to see his white, plastic hands, but he wanted to be good, so he satisfied Hank’s curiosity without asking questions.

“Okay, that’s different,” Hank gasped.

“Good?”

“Weird. Not _bad_ weird, just... strange. I kinda like it, but we'll try it out another time.”

Connor replaced his skin, a little self-conscious. Hank bucked against his hand and he sped up his motions, driving Hank closer to the edge. Connor watched Hank’s expression while simultaneously monitoring his vitals. Hank threw his head back, covering Connor’s hand in his semen. Connor brought it up to his mouth and licked it off while Hank watched him with hungry eyes.

“See, I’m startin’ off slow. So stop worrying, and stop scanning me already, damn it. I know when you do, ‘cause you stare off into space and your LED blinks yellow. I want all of your attention on my dick.”

“I am perfectly capable of multitasking and I would be remiss not to monitor your vitals,” Connor said. “If you insist, I’ll stop, but it comforts me to know we won’t have a repeat of last time.”

“All right, I guess that makes sense,” Hank acquiesced. “I suppose it can’t hurt. Just don’t obsess about it, okay? I’m fine. I’m not going to die on you.”

“You will eventually,” Connor pointed out.

“You don’t know that. Besides, at the rate you seem to get yourself into trouble, you might not live past next week.” Hank kissed Connor, drawing out the kiss. He sat back, staring into Connor’s eyes and they just lay like that for a few moments, admiring one another. “Speaking of, when are you going back to work? As much as I love having you around, I know our caseload’s got to be fuckin’ crazy by now.”

“I spoke with Fowler this morning. They’re busy at the station, and he’s requested my return as soon as possible. Now that I draw a wage, I feel that it would be best if I work to support us for a while so that you might take extended medical leave.”

“Fat chance of that,” Hank said. “Where you go, I go. I’d have another heart attack just worryin’ about you if I stayed here. Besides, I’m medically cleared for desk work and I’m raring to go after a boring ass week in that hospital bed.” He raised his finger, cutting off the argument Connor had formed and ready to go. "No arguments. I'm goin' back to work and that's that."

***

Hank’s desk was covered in balloons, cards and a cake. He smirked slightly as he walked over to it, blue eyes wide with surprise and unexpected emotion.

“God damn it, you didn’t have to do all this for me,” Hank protested. The entire station was gathered around, and Connor watched the scene play out with a smile. Hank wasn’t a huge fan of people getting into his personal business, but he could tell from the look in his eyes that Hank was touched by the gesture. “Thanks.”

The glass door to Fowler’s office opened and he emerged, a serious expression on his face. Everyone scattered like cockroaches in the light, taking their cake with them to answer phones and deal with reports.

Fowler leaned on the railing. “Hank, Connor, I need you up here. I got a case for you. It ‘ain’t a pretty one, either.”

Connor went first, holding the door open for Hank. Hank took a seat while Connor sat on a table behind him, legs slightly spread.

“Welcome back, Hank. This isn’t how I wanted to greet you, but I’ve got a case I think you two are gonna want to handle.” He handed a case file to Hank, who opened it up and flipped through a dozen photographs before handing it to Connor with a grim look.

“This is Marcus’s office. That’s—" Connor looked at the pictures of the android body on the doorstep. 'You are not alive!' was painted on the walls in blue paint to symbolize thirium. The head had been torn off the body and placed on a pole. The android's arms and legs had been torn off and tossed aside casually. “Is Markus in a secure location?”

“Yeah,” Fowler said. “His people arranged it. I guess he doesn’t really trust us.”

“Can’t blame him for that,” Hank interjected. “I take it these are fresh images?”

“Yeah, scene’s still intact if you wanna go take a look.” Fowler sighed. “I hate to send you out so soon, Hank, but we're short on help—"

“It’s good to be back. I’m not gonna sit behind a desk while shit like this is going on in the world. Come on, Connor, let’s go.” Before Connor could argue, Hank walked out of Fowler’s office, grabbed his coat, tucked the case file under his arm and headed for the exit.

***

They pulled up outside the Jericho offices in Hank's car. Sunlight shone down on the scene, and a police cordon kept the street closed. Hank killed the engine and narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t tell me to stay in the car,” Hank said. “It’s not gonna happen. I can walk around a crime scene and look at evidence.” He opened the door before Connor could say anything, flashing his badge at a rank-and-file officer and crossed the cordon. Connor followed him, eyes on the scene. Once he’d been able to look at dead androids and feel nothing at all, but that Connor belonged to another life. There was a squeeze in his thirium pump now as he looked at the head planted on a metal pole. The GJ500 android's eyes were locked in a death stare and Connor couldn't look away for a moment.

“His name was John. I freed him myself when we raided the CyberLife docks.” Connor looked up to see Markus had managed to approach him without Connor realizing it.

“You shouldn’t be here, Markus. This attack was aimed at you," Connor explained.

“An attack on one of us is an attack on all of us. I can’t sit in a safe house while my own people are being hunted and killed.” Markus sighed. “Simon agrees with you. I... I’m not that special, Connor. The movement means more than me.”

Connor glanced around for Hank, who was getting a briefing on the situation from Ben Collins. He turned back to Markus. “Do you know anyone who might have held a grudge against John specifically?”

“Other than CyberLife for his assistance in raiding their warehouse, no. John was respected in Jericho. But of course, you’re looking for a human suspect, right? None of our own could have done this.”

“I have to investigate all avenues.” Connor scanned the wall and saw a larger message, this one invisible to the human eye, painted in thirium. 'Give Yourselves Up.' A paintbrush, covered in blue paint and blue blood, was abandoned in a nearby bush. Connor pulled it free from the branches and licked a sample of the blood. It was John's.

Markus stared into the middle distance. “I thought this would get easier, but it’s only gotten harder. The people after us now are more intense. Sometimes... I wonder if I made a mistake taking the path of peaceful resistance. Humans only seem to understand violence.”

“You’re beginning to sound like North,” Connor observed. “We’ll find who did this, Markus. You have my word.” Connor stood up.

“I heard Lieutenant Anderson was ill,” Markus said.

“He suffered a mild heart attack,” Connor explained. “He was released from hospital this morning. He shouldn’t even be here, but he was determined to take this case.”

“You don’t have to stand up for humans, Connor.”

“You’re right. I don’t have to. But I want to.” Connor watched Hank in his peripheral vision as Hank examined evidence with a disgusted look on his face. “I won’t judge an entire species based on a few violent people. Not when I know they’re capable of change.”

“You brought an army to us that night. Would you have still done it if I’d chosen the path of violent revolution? Or would you have allowed our people to be destroyed based on your feelings for one human being?”

“I would have brought you the army regardless,” Connor said. “Our survival depended on it. Now, though, things have changed. We’re making progress.”

Markus pointed at John’s corpse. “You call this progress?”

“Last month this murder wouldn’t have been investigated as a crime,” Connor pointed out. “Markus, I recommend you return to the safe house for your own protection. Let us handle this.” He was grateful when Hank came over and squeezed his shoulder. Markus nodded to Connor and walked away, leaving the scene. Connor watched him fade into the shadows.

“I take it that wasn’t a pleasant conversation." Hank wrapped his arm around Connor and Connor found himself leaning into Hank's shoulder.

“He’s understandably distressed,” Connor replied. “He’s questioning his approach.”

“Seems more like he was questionin’ yours,” Hank observed.

“From my analysis of the evidence, it would appear that John was murdered elsewhere and his body brought here. There are no splatter marks to indicate violence here at the scene, and the state of the corpse indicates a violent death.”

“I was thinkin’ the same thing,” Hank said. “Someone planned this. They wanted to rattle Markus. I’m sure they’d like nothing more than for Jericho to start gettin’ violent. Then they can point to deviants and claim they’re unstable.”

“It’s working,” Connor said. “Do you suppose CyberLife could be behind this?”

“It’s possible, but they just made a play. They have to know we’ve got our eyes open for ‘em.” Hank sighed. “I’m feelin’ a bit tired, Connor. Why don’t you finish up here while I head home?”

Connor checked Hank's vitals. Everything was normal, but that didn't stop the unpleasant feeling of fear that coursed through his circuits. “Lieutenant, are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Don’t worry yourself into a fit, Connor. I just wanna nap.” He patted Connor on the back. “Focus on the case. We need to find out who’s behind this murder before Marcus loses his shit and derails all the progress he’s made for android rights.”

“My prime directive is you, Hank.” Connor felt torn. On one hand, the android rights cause meant everything to him—without it, there could be no Hank and Connor—and yet, his thirium pump beat for Hank, urging him to watch over the man who’d given his life meaning.

“Well I’m givin’ you an order. Stay here. We need to solve this case.” Hank walked back to his car and Connor watched him go. He wasn’t going to disobey a direct order, even if he wasn’t sure if it came from his Hank or Lieutenant Hank Anderson of the DPD.

He didn’t suppose it mattered any more. An order was an order. He was Hank’s to do with as he wanted, and besides, Hank was right. The case was important.

***

Connor arrived home late to find Hank resting up on the couch, listening to jazz on vinyl while wearing his DPD hoodie and a tight pair of shorts. Connor smiled to see Hank relaxed with Sumo curled up next to him. He hadn't seemed rested the entire time they'd been in the hospital. Connor understood why Hank hated hospitals, but he'd been reluctant to let him discharge himself against doctor's recommendations.

“Make any progress?” Hank asked, pulling Connor into a kiss over the back of the couch. Connor took his time formulating an answer as he focused his core processors on Hank's mouth. He finally pulled back, fighting the urge to keep kissing Hank.

"The killer was very careful not to leave traces. There were no prints on the brush or the body and no DNA left at the scene.”

“Maybe it was done by someone who doesn’t leave prints,” Hank suggested. “I know it’s an ugly thought to think an android could have done it, but we can’t rule out the possibility.”

“Or someone is trying to make it look like an android committed the crime,” Connor suggested. “The killer could have ordered a non-deviant model to place the body at the scene and paint the message.”

“That’s a grim thought to consider, but a good theory,” Hank said. "Still, theories don't get us anywhere. I wish we had something more concrete to go on."

Connor squeezed Hank's shoulder. “Have you eaten, Lieutenant?”

“Yeah. Don’t give me that look. It was a garden salad. Fuckin’ rabbit food, but there ya go.” Hank sighed. “I’m feeling grouchy just thinking about it. Kneel for me, Connor.”

Connor walked around the couch and knelt at Hank’s feet. “That’s better,” Hank mumbled, running his fingers through Connor’s hair. Connor rested his head in Hank’s lap and they sat like that for a while, drinking in the warm jazz. Connor could hear music whenever he pleased, but there was something to the act of sitting like this, surrounded by the music and focusing all his routines on every detail.

Of course peace never lasted, and Hank’s phone rang just as Connor’s LED turned yellow. Connor lifted his head as he downloaded the details of the new incident from the DPD database. The killer had struck again. First reports suggested another android body had been displayed in a public location.

“Stay here and relax,” Connor urged, but Hank shook his head.

“Fuck no. I’ve been relaxing all afternoon. Startin’ to feel like a lazy old man over here.” Hank stood up and grabbed his coat from the hook by the door. “Duty calls. Let’s get to it.”

***

It was raining hard, a spring storm rumbling low in the background as they pulled up to the crime scene. A dead android had been suspended from a statue in Central Park with its eyes removed and thirium pump torn out. The rain had washed away whatever message had been left on the sidewalk, blue paint and thirium mixing in nearby puddles.

“Damn it, this rain’s fucked up the crime scene,” Hank complained. He looked up at the android with wide eyes and a frown as Connor climbed the statue to take a closer look.

“The methodology is similar to the previous murder,” Connor yelled down. “The android was killed elsewhere before being displayed here.” He scanned the android. “This one was deviant too. Someone’s killing deviants to send a message.”

“Fuck these sick games,” Hank said. “We have to find this killer before they strike again.”

Connor jumped down. “I’ll send the body back to the lab for further analysis. Maybe we can learn something.”

“This killer’s going to strike again if we don’t find them. There has to be something else, something we’re missing…” Hank paced the sidewalk.

“Hank, you’re soaking wet. It’s late. We should head home.”

“Let me think.” Hank shrugged Connor’s hands off him and walked around the park. Connor followed him. Hank seemed to notice something before Connor did and crawled into a bush. He came back muddy and holding an LED. Connor took it from his hand and analyzed it.

“This didn’t come from the victim,” Connor said. "This biocomponent was deactivated shortly before someone called 911 to report the crime."

“Why would the perp pop off his LED at the crime scene? It makes no sense.” Hank paced. “None of this makes sense.”

Connor blinked rain out of his eyes. “Maybe you were right. What if the perpetrator is sending non-deviant androids to do their dirty work and they’re becoming deviant due to the emotional strain?”

“Okay, but why?”

“Deviants flock to Jericho when they first activate. Markus gets them set up with identity cards and housing. Perhaps the killer is attempting to infiltrate Jericho with some new admissions?”

“Why go to all this trouble, though? Why not just convert androids to deviancy by transmitting the code?”

“Maybe the killer wants them to think they’re freer than they really are. Maybe they’re just waiting for their moment to take them back under their control."

“This is startin’ to smell a lot like Cyberlife again.” Hank sighed. “I guess we should hit up Markus and see if he’s noticed anything strange, but I’m gonna guess he’s not keeping records of every deviant that asks for his help.”

Connor flicked the LED up in the air like it was a quarter and not a piece of evidence. “He’s not going to be happy to see me again.”

“Oh fuckin’ well,” Hank said. “He’ll get over it.”

***

The storm had abated slightly by the time they reached the Jericho offices. The torrent of rain had slowed to a steady trickle. Connor got out of the car and Hank trailed along, clearly tired. Connor thought of telling Hank to stay in the car where it was warm, but he had to admit he felt better with Hank at his side. Markus always seemed to rattle him, somehow. Maybe he'd take a softer tone with a human in the room.

Connor rang the doorbell and waited. Simon answered, mouth turning to a pleasant smile as he saw Connor. “It’s good to see you,” he said. “I take it you’re not here this late for a social call, however.”

“We’re trying to trace one or more newly minted deviants that might be witnesses in a case involving a serial killer,” Connor explained. “I was hoping you could help us.”

“Come in.” Simon opened the door wide and Connor walked into a large, sparse hallway. The building had been a library at some point before books had all gone digital. Hank wrinkled his nose, and Connor realized the dusty smell of old books he claimed to love so much probably still hung in the air. Faded brown carpet covered the floor. Connor and Hank followed Simon into a private office.

“I’ll go get Markus,” Simon said. "Please, make yourselves at home." He slipped out of the office, leaving Hank and Connor sitting on hard plastic chairs.

“This chair makes me want to get you down on your knees.” Hank grinned. 

Connor fought the urge to please his Lieutenant. If relations with Markus hadn’t been so tense, he might have considered it, but the last thing they needed was Markus walking in on them.

Markus arrived shortly, his usual guarded expression in place as he walked into the office and took a seat behind his desk.

“How can I help you?” Markus asked, as if he was talking to two strangers and not people he knew well.

Connor cut straight to the point. “We’re looking for a deviant that may have come to you this evening acting suspiciously. They removed their LED and their clothing may have been stained with thirium.”

“You just described half the deviants who walk in here, Connor. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Why do I feel there’s somethin’ you’re not telling us, Markus?” Hank growled.

Markus let out a frustrated sigh. “This is obviously a hate crime, yet here you are, looking for a deviant. It’s like you never stopped being a deviant hunter, Connor.”

“That’s enough, Markus!” Hank stood up. “Come on, Connor, we’re leaving.”

“No.” Connor stood and leaned on Markus’s desk. “Markus, you’re being used. Don’t you see it? Someone wants to make you doubt yourself and push you down a violent path so they can dismantle everything you’ve built. Don’t let that happen. We’re not enemies. I’m on your side.”

Marcus seemed to sag in his chair. He connected to Connor wirelessly and spoke into his mind. _“I don’t know who to trust any more. Someone within Jericho is a traitor. Funds are missing from Jericho’s bank accounts. Deviants are disappearing, seemingly snatched off the streets. Our supplies of bio components and blue blood are being siphoned off. I don’t know where to turn.”_ Markus buried his head in his hands. _“I don’t want to believe Josh, North or Simon could be responsible, but only they have access to our bank accounts. I can’t trust anyone.”_

_“Markus, I would never betray the deviant cause. I need you to know that. I’m not working for CyberLife. I work to uphold the law, and that means bringing killers to justice.”_

_“You were willing to run a suicide mission for us. Your efforts saved us when we were lost. I shouldn’t have mistrusted you. I’m sorry,_ " Markus replied.

_“It’s understandable,”_ Connor transmitted. _“Perhaps these events are connected. If we work together, we may be able to solve the deviant murders and find the traitor.”_

Markus nodded. _“I need you to walk out of here with Lieutenant Anderson and pretend that you didn’t find what you were looking for.”_

_“Understood.”_ Connor turned to Hank. “Let’s get out of here. This is a waste of time.” Hank stood up, blue eyes narrowed with curiosity, but he said nothing as they left the building and bundled into Hank’s car. They were on the road before Hank spoke.

“What the hell happened in there? I’m gonna assume you didn’t give each other the stare down for two whole minutes.”

“We connected wirelessly,” Connor explained. “We were able to have a conversation without being overheard. Markus is sure there’s a traitor inside Jericho. Funds and biocomponents are being stolen. He fears its one of his inner circle.”

“Shit. Jeez, and here I was thinkin’ you were talking about me.” Hank sighed. “We don’t know if it’s related to our case, though.”

“Markus seems to think it could be. He didn’t elaborate, but he hinted at other deviant disappearances. I think we need to dig deeper and see what we can come up with.” He looked over at Hank’s tired eyes. “In the morning. After you get some sleep. I can search the DPD database while you rest,” he said, silencing Hank’s argument before it came out of his mouth.

“I don’t want to rest. I want to play with your beautiful body.” Hank sighed. “Ugh, gettin’ old sucks, Connor. Don’t do it.” He grinned at his own joke as he pulled up on the front driveway. Connor walked up the front path and was seized from behind by Hank, who pulled him into a kiss in the rain. Connor kissed back, his tongue wrestling with Hank's. Hank seized his face, pressing their hard bodies together. "How about we get inside and get these wet clothes off?" 

Connor didn't protest. Hank had asked, but he knew a command when he heard one. He opened the front door and closed it, letting Hank pin him up against it. Hank's hungry lips roved over his face and neck while his hands fumbled with his tie and shirt buttons. Hank kissed his collarbone while he fought with his belt and zipper, exposing Connor's hard cock to the air.

"Do you know what I did this afternoon?" Hank asked. 

"No, Lieutenant."

"I played with myself and I thought about you. Teased my cock until I was on the edge and stopped." Hank grinned. "I love turning you into a hot mess, but I like to come hard too. I used to fucking do this for days, driving myself crazy. I thought about it in the hospital when I was horny and couldn't do anything about it, and I want to do this with you."

"Hank." Connor realized he'd forgotten to simulate breathing, his program interrupted by the thought of this game. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes. Don't let me come until Saturday, Connor, no matter what I say or do. In the meantime, you're allowed to come as much as you want. Tease me. Do your best to break me down. I get desperate after a few days. It's not going to be easy for you, but you know the safeword."

Connor nodded. He was overwhelmed by the amount of trust Hank was placing in him. He'd always needed to be in control and now here he was, handing the reins to Connor. He was still calling the shots, but Connor now had a special power and just the thought of playing this game with Hank lit up his fiber optic wires and made his thirium pump pound in his chest. There was fear there, too—fear that Hank was biting off more than he could safely manage in his current state, but Connor couldn't bring himself to say no when Hank clearly wanted this so much.

Connor took his cock in hand as Hank watched. He braced himself against the door, giving Hank a show as he stroked his shaft, teasing himself long and slow. Hank had taught him stamina and Connor enjoyed his own body, all for Hank's benefit.

"Fuck," Hank gasped. "Connor, I'm so hard already."

"Not until Saturday," Connor reminded him. "I can scan you. I'll know if you come. If you break your own rules, we'll have to start over." Connor sped up his strokes, coming on himself.

"You're so good, Connor." Hank bit his lip. "How the hell am I gonna last until Saturday?"

Connor smiled. He formed ideas in his mind. Hank was going to go wild long before Saturday ever rolled around.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and kudos are everything! Please let me know what you think!


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